Summer Island Read online

  Jack caught a glimpse of Ninni by the second gate and wondered if she had been looking for him. The thought made him smile.

  She wasn’t alone. Jens leaned against the fence next to her. On the other side of the paddock, he saw Olav standing together with another, heavy-set man. ‘Who’s that?’

  Petter smiled. ‘Oh, that’s Tobben. The third farmer on the island.’

  Ninni hugged her dad. Petter waved a hand towards Jack. ‘Look who I found on the way.’

  Jack smiled when Ninni nodded at him. ‘Nice to see you again,’ he said.

  ‘Takk for sist,’ Ninni said.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘It’s an expression to use whenever you meet someone again. It means thank you for the last time we saw each other. And you use it whether you haven’t seen a person in fifty years or in the last few hours. It’s a bit formal, like I wouldn’t say it to Pappa but I say it to people on the island when I’ve been gone for a while.’

  ‘Is that what they’ve just done?’ He nodded towards Jens and Petter. The men had greeted each other with a brisk hug and a hearty pat on the back. They were talking excitedly in Norwegian. Jack understood takk, but that was about it.

  ‘Yes, but right now Jens is complaining that Pappa only brought books for the kids.’

  ‘Why does he bring books?’ Jack took a step closer to her.

  Ninni smelled good. Like cardamom and vanilla, he thought.

  ‘Pappa owns a bookshop in Bergen. He always brings the latest books with him for the islanders. During the summer, he sets up a book corner in the shop and tries to persuade me to sit there to sell all the surplus stuff from the bookshop nobody wants to buy.’

  ‘Which you mostly refuse, I guess,’ Jack said.

  She shrugged. ‘I have a job. He also tries to get me to open a permanent bookshop here, and I keep telling him it’s a ridiculous plan. People either buy their books in town or online, or get them from the library.’

  Jack found her obvious annoyance charming. ‘So,’ he said, ‘How is this potato thing going to happen?’

  Ninni nodded towards the barn. ‘The field is behind there. They spent most of the morning trying to make an old harrow work, so they wouldn’t have to dig furrows.’

  Jack watched the men heading towards the barn. ‘Where are they going?’

  ‘Looks like they’ve given up on modern machinery,’ Ninni said with a wide smile. ‘Just stay here with me and you won’t get a shovel in your hands. Those things are murder on the back.’

  Jack had no intention of going anywhere without her.

  A little girl came running towards them, grabbing Ninni’s hand and talking a mile a minute. Ninni smiled and nodded. ‘This is Jack. He doesn’t speak Norwegian, so this is your chance to show off your English, Anja,’ she said to the little girl.

  Anja looked at him. ‘Hello,’ she said.

  ‘Hello,’ Jack said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine. How are you?’ She was giggling so hard she could hardly get a word out.

  Jack nodded at the donkey. ‘Is that yours?’

  ‘Yes. His name is Olly.’

  Not bad, Jack thought. The girl said something to Ninni.

  ‘Her little brother got to name the donkey. She’s a bit mad about that.’

  Anja tugged at Ninni’s arm again. ‘Kom nå,’ she said.

  ‘She wants us to come now. There’s work to be done.’

  She held onto the little girl’s hand and chatted with her as they walked across the courtyard and around the barn.

  The field was ploughed, or at any rate it looked ploughed to his eyes. At least five or six people were using shovels to turn the dirt. Ninni was right; it looked like hard work.

  The field was also mucky and soft underfoot, as he discovered when he walked into it.

  A woman holding a heavy metal bucket, filled to the rim with what looked like old potatoes full of sprouts, came towards them. ‘Hi, I’m Sigrid. Pleased to meet you,’ she said, sounding exactly like the little girl. ‘Are you ready to work?’

  ‘I guess so.’ Jack couldn’t help admiring her bright blue eyes and the long blonde braid over her shoulder.

  ‘Ninni said you haven’t done this before. Are you sure you’re up for it?’

  ‘I’ve been looking forward to this since yesterday,’ he assured her.

  ‘Good. Follow me.’ Sigrid put the bucket down next to a furrow. She picked up a potato and held it in front of him. ‘You put them down with the sprouts facing up, then fold dirt over them, making it look like a narrow ridge. About twenty centimetres between them. If there’s anything you need, let me know.’

  Sigrid left and he looked around. Ninni was in the next furrow, with her bottom in the air and the same kind of bucket next to her. He admired her bottom, and smiled when she turned to look at him.

  ‘Why don’t they use plastic buckets?’ he asked.

  She laughed. ‘They don’t believe in plastic. Sorry about that. Is it too heavy for you?’

  She was teasing him again. ‘I can manage.’

  He tried to keep up with her, only to realise it was better if he kept a few paces behind. He was enjoying the view too much.

  Chapter 11

  Finishing the potato field took almost three hours, despite all the people working. Jack was knackered halfway through, but would be damned if he was going to show it. His back, arms and even shins ached. But he kept up with the mad mud people.

  Ninni came over to him, rubbing her hands against the dungarees she was wearing on top of her clothes. ‘You did well,’ she said with a wide smile. ‘How are you feeling?’

  He looked at the furrows he had finished. They didn’t look as straight as the others. ‘It’s not really precision work, is it?’ he said.

  ‘Not really, no. They look fine, though. Are you hungry?’

  ‘I’m starving. Are we done?’ Jack couldn’t hide his relief and it made her laugh.

  ‘Yes, you can turn in your bucket now. We are going to the beach. Jens started up the firepit an hour ago.’

  ‘Sounds fantastic. Is it for hot dogs?’

  ‘That too. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of different stuff to eat. You brought something as well, didn’t you?’

  She had noticed. Jack grinned. ‘I couldn’t come empty-handed, could I?’

  They dropped the buckets by the barn. Ninni looked at him. ‘What did you bring? I’m only asking because I don’t want you to be disappointed if they don’t like it. We’re not Michelin-star eaters here, you know.’

  He smiled. ‘A challenge. I like that.’

  Ninni watched him. He had mostly kept pace with everyone else. She hadn’t expected anything less. He looked fit enough. He looked damned good, although she wouldn’t let him know that.

  ‘There’s a bathroom in the house if you want to have a wash,’ she said.

  Jack looked at his muddy hands and equally muddy wellingtons. ‘I’ll think I’ll take you up on that.’

  Ninni watched him as he walked towards the house.

  ‘Oh, dear, he looks a bit stiff in the gait, doesn’t he?’ Britt slid up to her, following her look.

  ‘Not used to hard manual labour, I should think,’ Ninni said.

  ‘But he’s a sight for sore eyes, isn’t he?’ Britt grinned. ‘And he likes you.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t.’ Ninni frowned, which only encouraged Britt.

  ‘He was watching you the whole time you were digging around with the potatoes. Admiring your bottom. It was so obvious.’

  Ninni shook her head. ‘You’re so wrong. I’m not ready for someone else, and besides, Jack is leaving as soon as he can sell the farm.’

  ‘Well, then, have a summer fling while he’s here. Enjoy yourself. You’re finally rid of that idiot Karl. It’s time to live a little. There’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun. If I was fifteen years younger I wouldn’t encourage you,’ Britt said.

  ‘Did you bring any beer today?’ Ninni pulled her hair out of the s
crunchie and shook her head.

  ‘Of course I did. Sigrid put them in the fridge. They’ll bring it down later.’

  They made their way down the pathway to the beach. Ninni looked at Britt. ‘Do you really think Karl is an idiot?’

  Britt rolled her eyes. ‘God, yes, Karl is so full of himself. Pilots have egos as huge as jumbo jets. And all that flying in and out, leaving you for weeks on end? It never seemed right to me. You’re far too good to waste yourself on someone who treats you like that. You deserve so much better.’

  She didn’t ask what had happened and Ninni didn’t tell her. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone. Not yet. It was too devastating and too embarrassing to even say aloud.

  Frikk came running towards her, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Ninni patted him on the head. ‘You’re having a blast, aren’t you?’

  She was grateful for the interruption. Britt tended to ask questions until she got answers.

  On the beach, Jens had the firepit going. He whistled while stirring the coals with a poker, making clouds of embers dance into the air. He looked like some ancient gnome performing a ritual.

  Ninni sat down on a patch of grass and sighed with contentment while Britt walked over to the firepit to talk to Jens. Planting potatoes was hell on the back. A mild breeze cooled her face.

  ‘Are you hungry, my girl?’ Jens popped up in front of her.

  ‘Yes, I am, actually. What are you cooking?’

  Jens scratched his nose. ‘There’s sausages for the kids, but they’ll want to cook those themselves. I have potatoes roasting between the coals, and if someone is willing to go out in the boat to pick some fresh mussels, that would be a kindness indeed.’

  Ninni frowned. ‘Ugh, no, thank you. I’ll take sausages over mussels any day.’

  ‘You’re a strange islander.’ He patted her knee.

  ‘My mother is a mainlander,’ Ninni said. She waved her hand at the pit. ‘Haven’t you got any proper food in there?’

  ‘A few things, yes. A pork chop or two, and the Englishman brought something that looks interesting, including some delicious-smelling beef. You won’t starve.’

  ‘As long as you have enough ketchup, I’m happy.’ She laughed at him when he pulled a face at her.

  ‘Ketchup?’ Jack towered over them. He looked slightly cleaner.

  Ninni’s heart gave a jolt. She hadn’t heard him coming. ‘Yes, I like ketchup.’ She became defensive.

  He grinned. ‘I have nothing against tomato sauce; I just prefer to cook it myself.’

  Jens turned his attention on him. ‘Do you like mussels, Englishman?’

  ‘Of course I do. Do you need any help prepping anything?’

  Ninni almost groaned, knowing what would follow. ‘Don’t fall for it, Jack. He needs someone to go and pick mussels,’ she said.

  ‘From where?’ Jack looked intrigued.

  Ninni pointed to the water. ‘From out there.’

  ‘I’ve never done that. Can I come?’ Jack looked eager.

  Jens grinned. ‘See? He’s willing to help. You don’t want me to send him out there on his own, do you?’

  No, she didn’t. He’d probably drown if he tried. Ninni sighed and got up. ‘Come along then.’

  Jens rubbed his hands together. ‘At least a bucketful, my girl, and make sure you clean them before you bring them in.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Ninni said, stamping towards the pier.

  Jack kept up the pace. ‘You don’t really want to do this?’

  Ninni laughed. ‘I don’t mind. It makes him happy if he thinks he’s forcing me. Just look at him.’

  Jack looked over his shoulder and Jens waved at him, clearly pleased with himself.

  ‘I see what you mean,’ Jack said.

  He followed her to the pier and they both climbed into the nearest rowing boat. He put on the life jacket she handed him, without argument this time.

  Jack looked around. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Around that point and into the next bay.’ Ninni pushed the boat away from the pier and put out the oars. She smiled when he looked confused. ‘Not all boats have engines. This boat belongs to the children and it’s a lot easier to handle.’

  She soon managed to turn the boat around and started to row. Jack looked fascinated.

  ‘Would you like to try?’ Ninni lifted the oars out of the water.

  He smiled so suddenly her heart jumped and she almost lost her grip on one of the oars. ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘You have to sit next to me,’ she said, trying to hide how awkward she felt.

  He carefully climbed over and sat down, making the boat rock and himself turn pale. Ninni hid a smile.

  ‘Just hold onto the oar, make sure it stays in the oarlock. If you lose it, we’ll have to swim to shore.’

  Jack had an expression of fierce concentration on his face. He gripped the handle of the oar with both hands.

  ‘Turn it so the blade goes in the water sideways and follow my rhythm.’

  He missed the surface on the first attempt and almost fell over, then, a bit more gently, he got it right. He laughed out loud. ‘Oh, this is brilliant.’

  ‘Here, take this one as well.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Jack looked thrilled at the thought.

  ‘Go on. Worst thing that can happen is we fall into the water. And we have life jackets for that.’

  Ninni waited until he had a good grip on both oars before moving away, hoping he didn’t see the relief on her face. It was too … intimate to sit that close.

  ‘Now, don’t go too fast. We are just going around the point, then you have to slow down and turn towards land.’

  He smiled at her. ‘This is not the same as a rowing machine in the gym.’

  ‘I should think not. This is a proper wooden boat,’ Ninni huffed.

  He looked good rowing, even if he was slightly out of breath.

  ‘How do I stop this thing?’ Jack was rowing too fast and he knew it.

  ‘You can lift up the oars; the boat will slow down.’

  Jack tested and looked slightly worried when the boat didn’t slow down much. ‘I hope there’s an easier way,’ he said.

  The boat glided past the point and a narrow bay without a beach appeared.

  Ninni waved her arm. ‘Go right. No, I mean your left. Lift up the left oar and gently press against the flow with the other.’

  She was secretly impressed when he executed the orders perfectly and the boat turned, but she didn’t want him to get all smug again.

  ‘Fine. Do you see the pole closer to land?’ She pointed towards a tall pole sticking out of the water.

  Jack looked over his shoulder. ‘That one?’

  ‘I need you to get as close as you can.’ Ninni leaned carefully over the gunwale.

  He made a complete mess of it and they missed the pole by metres. Then he laughed as he barely managed to avoid hitting land.

  ‘This is not as easy as it looks,’ he said, panting with the effort of stopping the boat.

  Ninni was delighted that he laughed. Perhaps he wasn’t such a stick-in-the-mud after all. ‘Okay. We have to turn the boat around. Sit still for a moment.’ Ninni put her hands next to his and pulled the oars towards her. The boat slowed down. Jack let her captain the boat and soon they slid in towards the pole.

  ‘Put one oar in the water and hold it still against the flow. That’s how you brake. It’s also how you turn the boat around, so watch it.’

  Jack figured out how to do it quickly. Ninni smiled at him. ‘You’re doing really well.’

  ‘Thank you. What’s with the pole?’

  Ninni reached out and grabbed it as they glided past. ‘You’ll see. Could you slow down, so I don’t lose my arms?’

  Jack did his best and the boat remained still enough for Ninni to find the rope that was wrapped around the pole. She pulled it up and into the boat, and it made a crunching noise as it hit the bottom.

  ‘That’s a lot of mussels,’ Jack said.r />
  The rope was thick with big oval-shaped blue mussels growing on it, reflecting the light in shades of blue and green. Ninni pulled a face. ‘I think this will be enough.’

  Jack watched as she plucked the mussels off and dropped them in the bucket one by one, after giving each a quick clean and squeezing them between her fingers.

  ‘How do you know they’re safe to eat?’

  ‘You don’t know?’ Ninni was surprised.

  Jack shrugged. ‘When I use mussels, they arrive at the kitchen already cleaned and safe. So how do you know?’

  ‘We test them on unsuspecting visitors.’ Ninni rubbed the “beard” off a large mussel, discovered a crack in the shell and threw it out into the water again. ‘That’s not safe.’

  Holding the oars with one hand, he picked up one and looked at it. ‘Very funny. Is that why you don’t eat them yourself? Are you scared of being poisoned?’

  ‘No, I absolutely hate the texture of the things. Jens checks with the food safety authorities every day on mussels so you can be sure they’re safe. He also keeps tabs on the weather and water quality by the beaches. Anything you need to know about nature, he’ll know about it.’

  The bucket filled up quickly and Ninni dropped the rope back into the water.

  ‘We can go back now.’

  Jack had more control now. He rowed more gently. ‘I thought there would be a farm or something like that,’ he said.

  ‘A mussel farm?’ Ninni shook her head. ‘It’s not commercially viable, I think.’

  He cocked his head. ‘I bet you fish crabs as well out here.’

  ‘Of course we do. The crabs here are fantastic and you can fish for them all year.’

  ‘What sort of crabs do you get?’

  ‘Red crabs and the occasional troll crabs. I usually throw those back in the water.’

  Jack turned the boat around the point again and kept looking over his shoulder towards the boathouse. The boat wobbled and it was clear he would miss the mark by a mile if he kept it up.

  Ninni stopped him. ‘Not like that. Fix on a point over my shoulder and I’ll let you know when we’re close.’